Copyright © 2016 by Martha L Shaw. All rights reserved.
In response to this week’s photo challenge I present to you a slideshow highlighting some of my own art – a few of the many quilts I have made. I hope you will enjoy it!
Love this challenge because it is forcing me to look outside of the stress of this moment and focus on being carefree, like this . . .
or perhaps like this . . .
All Photography Copyright 1995-2013 by Martha L Shaw
I love sunrises and sunsets, as so many others do, but for me they have a personal connection deep in my heart! My late father loved to take pictures and while he was far from professional (and we have lots of old headless shots to prove it) it didn’t matter to Daddy. He would look back at the tattered old shots and remember his “pal” whether it was a “good” shot or not. To my Dad, everyone was his “pal.” He always had a story to tell, a picture to paint in words, or a ragged old snapshot in his wallet . . . no matter what challenge life put on him, such as his Parkinson’s Disease which ultimately took his life, he always had a smile that hugged the heart and soul of all he met. When he could not hold a camera or live on his own anymore, he moved in with me and constantly said “you have your camera near you? Look at that sky!!!”
I love thrift stores, second hand book stores, and the like. I always have. If you know me, you might assume it’s because I don’t currently have a job. You’d be wrong. I have lots of jobs, just no salary at present and nope, it’s not about money at all. Oh, the treasure to be found in such places . . . sometimes an unrecognized antique, other times a “whatzit” to be upcycled, and often treasure someone loved that found its way there one way or another . . . and my mind and heart spin off into wondering “if that piece could talk, the story it might tell” and often I find myself weaving a background for who drank coffee from that mug? Who read that book? Who curled up all cozy and listened while read to? Did it change their life? Did it plant a seed and quietly influence them many years after hearing it, when they’d long forgotten.
Memories . . . Mom had an old sewing machine that someone gave away thinking it far too old to use. It was a Singer and black with shiny gold and silver decorations and all metal parts. Many’s the dress, skirt, or top she made for me on that machine . . . up until I was older and thought handmade clothes were uncool . . . now I have reconsidered and think of the time spent making them for me and the details added to make them special . . . lace, embroidery . . .
More memories . . . seems I’ve been learning about Jesus my whole life. Many’s the story I curled up to hear before bed. Oh, then I learned to read and could get lost totally in adventures! I could imagine myself a princess, a girl detective, a world traveler, and oh so many other things . . . sometimes in my imagination I had a red race car and other times a pony to ride . . . sometimes I listened to stories of Noah, of Jesus . . . other times poems about birds, seashells, swings, and gentle breezes . . . there was always a story . . .
When it was cold, I’d snuggle up with the worn old quilt Grammy made and sip hot chocolate from a big mug. “Be careful not to spill . . . ” Mama would say. “I will” I’d reply . . . and as I snuggled and listened, I thought how much fun would it be to learn to quilt? Maybe, someday I’d be a writer and tell stories? Oh, those poems are so pretty to listen to! Maybe someday someone will read poems I write and smile?
Wow, love this Photo Challenge! I wonder . . . what makes a moment fleeting? Might it sometimes be something more than the obvious? Could it occasionally be not the moment itself but our response to it or lack thereof?
So many moments come to mind . . . some of which made me pause and reflect and some of which I all but missed as I had viewed them as an intrusion while I focused on something else then later wondered what I’d missed . . .
My late father loved sunsets and as he suffered from Parkinson’s and couldn’t capture them with his camera . . . and since he lived with me . . . he’d come looking for me to “get that contraption” and capture them myself. He wasn’t up to using new technology but loved the notion of a camera without film and a computer which could find and show anything he asked me to look for . . . so, I learned to keep a camera near the door to be ready to hold a sunset in my hand. I have loved them ever since those days, yet when I gaze upon them now, I feel not the setting sun’s warmth, but rather the warmth of Daddy’s love . . .
Fleeting moments . . .
Can they be caught?
How often have I overlooked
What I have so longed for
As I closed the door on my heart
And drew the drapes?
Were they fleeting at all
Or did they merely coast along
And find a resting place
by Martha L Shaw – © 6-7-2013
Here are but a few examples depicting “up”
as my heart sees it:
Photography Copyright 4-18-2013 Martha L Shaw
Gloom and glory go hand in hand. Have you noticed? It is midday where I sit yet the sun in just now beginning to shine outside my window. As I approach the lamp and snap it off finally, I see more than a colorful lampshade.
- I see reflected glory.
- I see patriotism.
- I see Christian love.
- I see friendship.
My pretty lamp was a gift from a friend as she packed up her home and prepared for deployment. She is in the military. At any moment she can be sent to the center of a war-torn part of the world where she will serve willingly, lead and protect others, live surrounded by death, dying, and destruction. Yet, my friend presents a calm spirit in the face of it all. She sees life as full of beauty and color. So, on this gloomy day, do I. Thanks Lynn!
I present this to you in response to the Weekly Photo Challenge. To participate, click here and read all about it. The theme? Color!
Love this challenge! Getting lost in the details means, to me, an invitation to slow down a bit and appreciate God’s creation at a deeper level than I normally would in this rush and hurry world.
Hope of Spring
Hope of Spring
Still chilled from the long hard winter,
Fluttered just a bit
At the sight of
A simple, tiny flower
Poking its pretty face
Above the cold ground
By the rocks and trees
In the woods nearby.
I realize the coldness in my heart,
Like the snow,
Has begun to melt.
By Martha L Shaw © 3-1-2013